


You Find It

by cryme_anocean



Series: We'll Figure it Out [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:34:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1981371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryme_anocean/pseuds/cryme_anocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fucking alphas, shoulda chose a beta."<br/>"The fuck you just say?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Find It

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ты найдешь это](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6641461) by [Ahe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahe/pseuds/Ahe)



> Oh hello! This is going to be the beginning of a wonderful series, I think. Let me know what you want to see. I already have a few ideas for this series, but if you've got something in mind, tell me!

He heaves again, fingers gripping white on the side of the toilet seat, and the hand rubbing up and down in what should be soothingly annoys him more than it calms him. He wants to turn around and snap “get your hands off me”, but he’s taken over by another wave of nausea and then more vomit flowing from him.

 

 He coughs it up, getting it out of the back of his throat and then sits back against strong legs, fingers playing soothingly in his hair now. “You doing okay?”

 

“No I’m not fuckin doing okay!”

 

“You need to go to the clinic.”

 

He huffs stubbornly, knowing that’s a good enough response.

 

“Mick, this is the third time this week you’ve woken up to puke. Your scent’s changed. You need to get to the clinic.”

 

“I don’t need the fuckin clinic. Probably the flu, so get off my ass, Gallagher.”

 

“God, I fucking hate when you’re like this. Let me take care of you.”

 

Mickey pulls himself to his feat slowly, trying to avoid throwing up all over his alpha. “Don’t need you to take care of me.”

 

“My whole fucking purpose in life is to take care of you and you want to tell me you don’t need it.” Ian scoffs and reaches out to grip Mickey’s wrist. “You’re going to the clinic today. Go get dressed.” His fingers push on Mickey’s pulse point and he knows that he can feel the spike in his heartbeat.

 

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” He pulls his arm free, “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to use the bond against me like that. Fuck you.” He leaves the bathroom—not before flushing the vomit down the toilet—and crawls back into bed.

 

Ian knows exactly how to dominate over him. Knows how to let off hormones that get Mickey pliant and needy. Knows how to touch him in ways that pull his defenses down. He knows how Mickey works intimately and Mickey isn’t sure if that’s because of the bond or because he took it upon himself to get that intimately acquainted with his body.

 

Mickey buries his face in the pillow and lets himself feel hurt. He lets himself feel hurt that something so important to both of them was used against him. And he knows. He knows logically that Ian was only doing it because he’s worried or whatever shit. But he’s never used the things he knows in that way. He’s never done it because he knows that he can make Mickey do whatever he wants but they’re _equals_. Even though the rest of the world—community, whatever—sees it differently. And when Ian manipulates the power he has over him to make him do things he wants him to do, Mickey doesn’t feel like an equal anymore. He feels like the object he’s told to be.

 

There’s a dip in the bed and a hand on his back and Mickey doesn’t want to talk about it right now. He doesn’t want Ian apologizing or whatever the hell he does because he wants to feel upset. He wants to be mad at Ian for abusing the position he was put in and wants to be mad at the betrayal he feels, at the feeling of inadequacy. “Mickey,”

 

“Don’t.”

 

This time, Ian understands what he means. Funny.

-

They don’t talk the rest of the day. Mickey falls asleep a little after Ian leaves for work because he doesn’t have to go in for another few hours. He’s woken up by waves of nausea and the need to piss. He feels lonely as he throws up for the second time that day.

 

At work, his boss approaches him, smiling widely. “Mickey!”

 

He pulls himself out from under the car, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, Mike?”

 

Mike is deterred by his lack of understanding, “Congrats, man! Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

Mike’s silent, staring at Mickey and then down to Mickey’s stomach before something dawns on him and Mickey wants to know what. “You, uh, why don’t you take the rest of the day off.”

 

“Sorry, _what_? What did I do?”

 

“Nothing, Mickey, nothing. Just. Go home and spend some time with your man.”

 

“My what?”

 

Mike snorts and his eyes flicker back to his stomach, “We all know about your alpha _male_ , Mickey.”

 

“The fuck?” But Mickey leaves because Mike won’t let him stay.

-

Mickey knows Ian will be suspicious. He’s never home before he is. Ian is going to be worried. Ian is going to insist on taking him to the clinic. But Mickey also wants to avoid Ian, so he goes on his own. He figures it’ll get Ian off his back.

 

He’s been to the clinic before. Obviously. He had to take Ian when he was… not okay. He’s used to the stares by now. There aren’t many male omegas, there aren’t many _omegas_ , period. But due to the way he’s seen—a cum-guzzling whore whose sole purpose in life is to please an alpha and then get pregnant—he doesn’t normally go out by himself. Without Ian, even though they can _smell_ _the bond_ , he’s hit on by alphas. And not in a respectful way.

 

But they shy away from him now. He signs in and sits down, the only open seat next to an alpha and a beta. The alpha stands up immediately and moves away from him. He’s close to next heat, maybe a week away, but alphas are normally more aggressive during that time.

 

He sits there for a while, most of the patients are taken care of and new ones arrive, before his name is called. “Mickey Milkovich?” He stands and watches as some turn their heads to him. In a town like this, he knows his name is commonly associated with thug, male omega, asshole, and pimp. That doesn’t explain the way _all_ the alphas look noticeably uncomfortable and turn away. He almost frowns.

 

The nurse is pretty; at least, Ian would think so. He can tell she’s a beta by the way she seems more comfortable around him than the alphas do. She’s looking at him a little strangely, though, and he wonders not for the first time today why he smells so different.

 

“Um… the doctor will be in to see you in a moment.” She mumbles and then leaves quickly.

 

The doctor is an alpha. This freaks him out. He should’ve waited for Ian. No matter how pissed he is, he should’ve waited for Ian. The second he walks in, he stares at Mickey. He watches him for a long time before his eyes flick down to his stomach. Mike had done that earlier, he observes.

 

“Mr. Milkovich,” he starts and sits across from him, “what exactly are you here for?”

 

“My alpha,” fuckin so weird to say, “was having a bitch fit today over me being a little sick.”

 

“What kind of sick?”

 

“Uh, the sick kind? I didn’t know you could-”

 

“What’s wrong with you, I mean.”

 

“Been throwing up all week.”

 

He’s silent as he stares at Mickey. “That’s all?”

 

“Is there supposed to be something else?”

 

“No, no… alright. Do you need to use the restroom?”

 

That’s the weirdest question, “Yeah, now that you mention it.”

 

“Good. Pee in this cup, please.”

 

“What the fuck? I’m not here for a drug testing.”

 

“Not what you’re getting. I’m also going to need to take your blood.”

-

Mickey walks slowly. He doesn’t want to get back. He doesn’t want to get anywhere. He doesn’t _want_. Everyone was staring at him, alphas avoided him, even omegas glanced his way. How did his own alpha not know? He’d asked. The doctor said that the change in scent is gradual. Ian wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t looking for it.

 

“Mick?” Ian calls from the living room. Fuck. “Mickey?” He’s called again but he can't move from the entryway. “Mickey?” He hears the shuffling of Ian standing up and then the padding of feet towards him.

 

Ian is standing in front of him when Mickey grabs the back of his head and brings him close. Ian looks as if he’s expecting a kiss. Mickey’s about to say something when he’s interrupted.

 

“Why do you smell like an alpha I don’t know?”

 

Ian easily pulls himself out of Mickey’s grasp. He huffs and reaches up again, this time pulling harder. “Smell me.”

 

“I just did, you fucking smell like an alpha I don’t know. Why the hell was some alpha scenting you?”

 

“No alpha was scenting me, he touched him.”

 

“That makes me feel so much better, Mickey.”

 

“You know what, not now, Ian. Fucking smell me.”

 

Ian sighs and brings himself closer, nudging the side of Mickey’s face with his nose. Mickey tilts his head to the side, something he’s still not comfortable with. Ian’s nose skims over his skin, stopping at his ‘spot’. All alphas have it, Mickey learned quickly. The one spot on their bonded’s neck that is the most appealing to them. They go for it first, every time. Mickey’s was just under his ear. Ian was always sniffing there, licking there, biting there, kissing there.

 

“What am I looking for?” His lips brush his skin as he forms the words.

 

“Just… you’ll know.”

 

“Did you fucking cheat on me or something like that?”

 

“Fuck you, Ian.”

 

“Sorry.” He goes back to pressing his nose against his skin and inhaling. He trails all over and Mickey starts to worry that he’s not going to figure it out. That he’ll have to say. And then Ian stops down by his collarbone. He pulls away a little to look at Mickey in confusion before dropping back and sniffing again. He then pulls away completely. “Take off your shirt.”

 

Mickey does.

 

Ian trails down further, stopping right at the hem of his jeans. He pushes his nose into the skin right under his navel. Ian lets out a shaky breath and he does it again, inhaling sharply. “Fuck.” He murmurs and then he’s standing up, pressing his body into Mickey.

 

Mickey swallows thickly, “You find it?”

 

“You went to the clinic. Fuck, how’d I not notice it?”

 

“Doctor said it fucking happened slowly, you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t looking.”

 

“So you made me look rather than just telling me.”

 

“I can’t say it.”

 

“What, that you’re pregnant?”

 

Mickey flinches. He feels inadequate again.

 

“You’re upset. It upsets you that you’re pregnant?”

 

“Fuck, of course it does. I’m a pregnant, gay, male omega in the Southside.”

 

“Then we’ll move.”

 

“Fucking where, Ian? We don’t make enough money to move.”

 

“We’ll figure it out.”

-

Mike lets Mickey have the rest of the week off—he understands that his alpha will be too possessive to let him go anywhere anyway. Ian takes off despite Mickey telling him he doesn’t have to.

 

Ian is high. He’s high on hormones. He’s high on the smell of Mickey’s pregnancy, of their _child_. He grips Mickey tightly at night as they sleep, fingers splayed over his stomach. He kept Mickey in bed the first two days after they found out. He isn’t sure when the possessiveness, the protectiveness kicked in. He wasn’t feeling any sort of panic, any sort of discomfort until he thought about Mickey leaving for work the next day. He’s surrounded by alphas all day and he knows the alphas. Knows their scents and knows that most of them are bonded and straight. He knows this, logically, but biology comes into play when he thinks of his pregnant omega around alphas. He wants to tie Mickey up and mark him until he’s satisfied. He pushes it away.

 

That doesn’t mean that he lets Mickey leave the bed. He fucks him long and slow because he’s pretty sure the furious pace they usually set up isn’t good for the baby. And when they aren’t fucking, Ian’s pressing his ear to Mickey’s stomach, placing kisses, _smelling_. And it’s way too soon in the pregnancy for anyone to tell what their child is, but Ian likes to think that he can smell the beta boy inside of his omega. He can’t, Mickey assures him.

 

“Will you get the fuck off me?” They’re sitting on the couch, soaking each other up because tomorrow’s Monday and they have to go back to work. Ian’s working himself up over nothing, he knows, but he can't help but feel panicked at the thought of Mickey being around all alphas. None of his coworkers are betas. All of them will be able to smell him. All of them will know. And while the thought of all those alphas smelling Ian’s child inside of him, he can’t help but think that that should be only for him. So Ian’s rubbing himself all over Mickey. _Scenting him_ in a way that he doesn’t unless he’s in heat.

 

“No, thanks.”

 

Mickey sighs, “God, I know you’re worried or some shit, but all the fucking alphas avoided me. The doctor didn’t even want to touch me.”

 

“Good. It better always be like that.” Ian knows it’s not. He knows about the alphas who rub up on him, more of them when he’s close to his heat. He knows how enticing Mickey smells; he was drawn to Mickey for his scent. Which reminds him. He digs his nose into Mickey’s collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste him.

 

“Fucking alphas, shoulda picked a beta.”

 

“The fuck did you just say?” Ian’s hand dug a little harder into his hip.

 

“Fuck off, Ian. You know you're it or whatever.”

 

“Damn right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I know it was a little short, but I have the next few fics planned. Like I said before, if there's something you wanna see, let me know. You can find me on [tumblr](http://guessiliedinthehook.tumblr.com//) where I'll be taking prompts for whatever. Kudos and comments make my day!


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